I had been finding blogging really cathartic for a little bit, then strayed away for a bit. I feel embarrassed about where I am in life, guilty for the burden (mostly financial) that I have placed on my parents, and am in a full-blown mixed episode that is giving me fits currently.
I have had eight sessions of my intensive outpatient program. I would love to say that it has been all sunshine and roses, but of course it hasn’t been. It’s real work and I fight with my anxiety every morning in the parking lot about going in. Of course I’m going in, I mean, I did drive (or rather DSB drove me) almost 30 miles to get here, so I’m going in. Not going in isn’t really an option. There are a lot of people that expect me to be there. But the anxiety in the morning is nearly unbearable.
Groups are small and somewhat manageable. I really like almost all of the therapists that lead group and generally take away something from them. I talked to Goddess of Mindfulness this morning and she goes to the program’s consultation meetings as part of her work. She told me the group thought I was being skillful. Well. I don’t feel very skillful.
I feel adrift, lost, unmoored from sanity. The only time I feel like I am not crazy is the time I spend in the program. There is a very clear dividing line between stepping in the door and back out again. In that three hours, I sometimes feel like I understand and I sometimes feel like I will be able to put all of these skills to use in my life. I don’t know why this is so hard, considering this is all a re-run of what happened five years ago.
My SSDI/SSI phone interview is on Tuesday. It still feels surreal to be applying. I can see very clearly that I am not capable of working, and have really been faking it for the past several years. Knowing this should make the process of filing for SSDI/SSI easier, right? Ok, well it doesn’t. The thought of trying to go back to work terrifies me, and the thought of not working terrifies me.
Being dependent (for the time being) on my parents for money is not a good feeling. I know that hopefully soon I will be able to do more to contribute to their greater good in some way, but right now it is a big fight to do simple things, like take a shower, or get dressed in the morning.
People who were my friends when I was working at the facility text me from time to time, wanting to know how I’m doing, if I want to get together. I have mostly just been sending vague replies, but I am starting to think that I’m going to stop responding. I do not have anything to say to these people and I do not feel like I have anything that I could possibly want to talk about with them. Maybe that seems extreme, but it’s how I feel.
If I think about it, I am really avoiding any kind of social activity, even with QoB. I see her from time to time, but I am much more comfortable and feel more safe just being at home, zipping back and forth (chauffeured, of course) to therapy and groups. Not much of a life, is it? For right now, it’s enough.
I don’t feel like I can take on anything more. I am barely managing day-to-day life and feel sometimes or sometimes even a lot of the times like it’s just not worth it. Like things won’t change, I won’t get better, life won’t get better. There’s a lot of hopelessness up there in my head and down in my gut that I don’t acknowledge a lot of the time, because I think it will disappoint people. I find myself faking my way through the day most of the time. In some ways, maybe I need to do that, because the alternative would be to sit and stare and panic.
I’m barely sleeping right now, averaging about 2-3 hours each night. I’m going through my evening routine, staying away from caffeine, not napping, blah blah blah. This isn’t something I am doing to myself, it’s something my brain is creating. The less sleep I get, the more irritable and racing and feel. I feel like I can tolerate very little and my anxiety has been sky-high.
I saw a new pdoc yesterday and I really liked him. He thinks I am on too much medication and that my Lithium level is too high. He wants me to get my anxiety and sleep under control, and then possibly do a big med change. The Geodon doesn’t seem to be working, and he is talking about taking me off that and putting me on Latuda instead. I haven’t done any research on it yet, because while I want to feel better, it’s hard to care about anything, especially when it’s so hard to believe that a med change will make me feel better.
Sometimes I think I get in my own way. I don’t think all of the faking it is helping, but I have operated that way for so long that sometimes that’s all I can remember what to do.